Dancing With The Devil
by misshastix
Summary: They always told me never to dance with the devil, because a dance with the devil, lasts forever. Faberry/Brittana. AU. supernatural themes.
1. Chapter 1

Death is quick. When you are unwilling, in the dark, and you are not witness to your fate.

It moves fast. It consumes you until you are nothing more than a shadow of what you once were.  
And even if you are suspecting of being held in its clutches, even if you have gone through hours of agony and are waiting for it to arrive.  
It will still creep up on you, and it takes no longer than a blink of an eye.

A blink of an eye.

And your life is gone forever.

But when death comes for Rachel Berry, her forever will have just started.

/

"Ah, ah, ahh, ahhhhh," Rachel harmonized, holding her forefinger and her thumb together as she raised them in perfect timing with her pitch. "Now, your turn."

The long-legged blonde in front of her scrunched up her nose in confusion.  
"Ah, ah, uhhh, uhhh?" Brittany tried to copy her, though it sounded more like she was asking a question. Rachel shook her head.

"It's not my fault," Brittany interjected, seeing the disappointed look cross Rachel's face. "When you hold up your fingers like that it makes me think that you're going to do a shadow puppets show and I get excited and lose track of what I'm supposed to do with my mouth. Also, you know I'm more of a dancer than I am a singer."

Rachel bit her lip, holding back the question she wanted to ask. _Why are you in Glee club, then?_ But she didn't want to ask because they were already two members short, which in itself would disqualify them from participating in Sectionals, regardless of how talented she, their leader singer, was.

Also she supposed the rest of the Glee club weren't too bad.

"It's nice of you to try and help me sing better, though," Brittany said slowly and the corner of Rachel's lips lifted. She already knew what a good samaritan she was, but extra praise never hurt anybody. "But I think I'm gonna go home, and do something more useful. Like try and hack Lord Tubbington's Youtube account because he keeps uploading videos of him on his motorbike and he never wears a helmet, so i'm scared the police might see and arrest him, you know?"

"Um."  
No, Rachel didn't know. In fact, she barely knew what Brittany was on about a good eighty percent of the time. But then again, did anyone? The quirky blonde had transferred to their school about two months ago and had quickly made a name for herself by becoming Head Cheerleader. At first, Rachel couldn't see why, because Brittany never ordered slushy facials on anyone and she didn't really seem to go out of her way to be a complete bitch like all the other cheerleaders either. But then at one of the Football games, Rachel had seen Brittany move. Really _move._ And so she'd decided someone who could move as beautifully as Brittany could, would be a welcome addition to the new up and running Glee club.

She had concocted a long and delicious plan to get someone as popular and high up in the stakes of popularity like Brittany to join Glee club. A plan that nonetheless included Jacob Ben Israel, several blackmail videos and other things that would probably be inappropriate to mention, but to her surprise, once she'd decided to set her plan in motion and approach Brittany, the blonde had merely just glanced at her and said, "Yes."

"Yes? You'll join Glee club?" Rachel had asked in shock, all plans and written dialogue being quickly swept from her mind as pale blue eyes bore into her brown ones.

"What? I thought you were going to ask if I wanted a yearly subscription to _Jewish Yearly_ because mine ended two months ago and nobody told me."

"Um." Rachel felt her mouth go dry as she watched two jocks carrying two green slushies heading towards them.

"But yeah sure, I'll join your Glee club. Glee means happy, right? Do you guys just bake rainbows and brush unicorn manes all day?"

"Um," Rachel cleared her throat as the two jocks eyed her off as they passed. They glanced at Brittany, as if for permission, but when she'd waved them off (obviously too invested in her conversation about one of her favourite topics: unicorns) they'd walked off to find another victim. Rachel visibly relaxed as they disappeared from her line of sight.

"So?"

"It's show choir. We sing."

"Oh." A disappointed look crossed Brittany's face.

"But we dance too," Rachel said quickly, not wanting to Brittany to refuse, they were already six members short, and if news got around that Brittany had refused, then _nobod_y would want to join them.

"Hmm," Brittany hummed, as if she were considering it. "So you sing and dance?"

"Yes, that is correct." Rachel's heart drummed against her chest as if Brittany's answer would change the course of her life.

Little did she know it would.

"Can I sing about unicorns then?"

"I don't think theres any songs abo-" She stopped, realising Brittany's eyes were narrowing ever so slightly. "I mean, sure, I can help you find one and help you sing it too, if you would like."

"Okay." Brittany suddenly looked cheerful again and swung around, heading to class.

Rachel couldn't believe it. One simple 'okay' and she suddenly knew everything would be good. Great, even. The head cheerleader has just agreed to join Glee club. Surely that would initiate basically the entire student body to join as well, wouldn't it?

And even if it didn't, Brittany must have one or two best friends that would want to join the club if she did, right? Even if they just used it as a place to gossip, all Rachel really needed was some extras swaying in the background to her melodious tone.

Actually now that Rachel thought about it, she'd never really see Brittany close with anyone. She'd watched her sometimes at lunchtime in the cafeteria, and the blonde would just drift from group to group, as if she were bored. But that just meant she had plenty of friends, right?

Even so, Brittany not having her own close group of friends sparked curiosity in Rachel, who was beginning to live her life like an MTV television series. Brittany's simple 'okay' was the Glee clubs ticket to Sectionals, and it was Rachel's ticket to see what went on in the mind of a head cheerleader, just in case that role ever came up for her in Broadway in the future.

Little did she know that simple 'okay' would spark a chain of events that would alter Rachel's life.

Or, end it.

/

"Do you want a lift?" Rachel asked, climbing off her bed, her toes digging into the same plush carpet upon where Brittany was sitting.

"Mmm, okay," Brittany said, tilting her head to the side. "But my apartment is only one-story, I don't really need a lift. Like, it wouldn't have anywhere to go, you know? Unless it went sideways, that'd be cool."

Rachel had been around Brittany long enough to tune out anything that she didn't consider 'intelligent conversation.' Sure, Brittany was probably really smart, but until she started speaking that way, Rachel really could not be bothered trying to decipher everything she said.

"You live in an apartment?" She asked, surprised. "Whereabouts?"

An expression of worry almost instantly crossed Brittany's face. "Isn't living in an apartment normal?" She sounded panicked, and Rachel's eyebrows knitted together in curiosity. "I didn't want to live in a house because its just me and Lor- I mean, me and my parents and stuff and I get scared if I'm by myself in a big house," Brittany explained in a rush, biting down on her lip similarly to that of a small child that had just been scolded. Rachel briefly wondered why, but then she suddenly felt sorry for the taller girl. Perhaps Brittany fit in with the rest of the student body less than she thought.

"Of course it's normal," Rachel casually shrugged. "It's just I plan to live in an apartment in New York after we graduate." Brittany already knew this. Rachel reminded everyone in the Glee club _at least_ twice a week. Brittany had no idea how anyone could _not _know this information. "So it would be welcomed of you to give me tips on how to live freely in such a small space. And the home decor? I cant imagine fitting my four poster bed in a tiny bedroom, but perhaps my apartment wont even have bedrooms? Maybe I'll buy a loft apartment. That would be adorable. Oh my, will I be able to afford to buy a loft apartment? I believe Broadway starting wages aren't too high. But I suppose when they hear me sing they'll re-consider my pay. Perhaps I'll just rent-"

And Brittany had been around Rachel long enough to tune her out when she started talking weird as well.

/

After almost half an hour of driving, thanks to Brittany getting her street names mixed up, Rachel finally pulled up outside an apartment block. It was painted red and looked kind of strange, built on the end of a street full of industrial sites.

"We're here," Brittany sing-songed and leapt out of the car before Rachel had a chance to stop the engine.

"You cant jump out of a car before its stopped!" Rachel exclaimed, exasperated, as she climbed out after parking almost perfectly, if she did say so herself, on the sidewalk. Brittany shrugged. "Its okay, I don't get hurt."

"I understand that doing numerous back-flips in a row may make you feel invincible," Rachel began, though she wondered quite how the blonde could do them so flawlessly. "But it doesn't mean you are. You could get hurt."

"I wont," Brittany said again confidently, leading her to an elevator.

"Brittany, you're not-"

"I don't get hurt," Brittany repeated, annoyance crossing her face.

Rachel sighed in response as Brittany lead her to her apartment door and let her in.

"My room is at the end of the hall," Brittany said, pointing towards a door at the end of the hall. "I'm just going to pee."

"Oh. Okay," Rachel said, looking around. Brittany's apartment was modest enough, with nice, simple furniture and decor, but as Rachel looked around, she couldn't help feeling a little bugged out about how there were no photos of Brittany or her family.  
No family photos, no nothing.

Except one. Rachel passed it as she entered the hall. It was a little smaller than an A4 portrait and it was in black and white. It looked ancient. In it, was Brittany, looking exactly the same as she did three seconds ago, except she was wearing a long puffy dress that looked like she had stolen it from a hundred years ago. She had her arms hugged tightly around almost a miniature carbon copy of her, a blonde, lithe girl of about seven or eight, also dressed in clothes from centuries ago. A man and a woman stood behind them, dressed in similar attire.

"Nice photo," Rachel couldn't help calling out. The apartment, though small, was too eerily silent for her tastes. She could see why Brittany got scared.

"Thanks," Brittany called back from behind a locked door somewhere.

"What was the occasion?"

"Occasion?"

"Yeah, I mean, you're all wearing old clothes."

"But we bought those clothes brand new?" came Brittany's questioning voice.

"I mean, they don't look like they're from this century."

"Oh." Brittany was quiet for awhile. "It was for this fancy dress thing."

Rachel looked at it again. "Where are your parents anyway? And your little sister?"

"Out of town," Brittany hollered back. Rachel nodded to herself. Sometimes her dads went out of town for business trips. "You can stay at my house if you feel lonely," Rachel offered. The apartment was making her feel weird, and she knew if her parents saw Brittany back at her house anyway they'd offer the same thing.

"Um, thanks," Brittany said. "I'll think about it."

"'Kay," Rachel said and finally began to make her way to the bedroom at the end.

And she almost did, but a bedroom door to her right creaked open ever so slightly and she couldn't help but peer in.

There was a cat on the bed. Well, if Rachel was being honest, the _fattest_ cat that Rachel had ever seen in her entire sixteen years of existing lay on the bed. He was asleep, his chest rising up and down in steady breaths, and he didn't even seem to notice Rachel staring at him. She watched him for a second, waiting for Brittany to come since her cat was in this room and not in her bedroom. Rachel wondered whose bedroom this was. There was only a bed with white sheets on it, and a brown wood wardrobe off to the side. It looked like a somewhat unfurnished guest room more than a bedroom, but there was only one other bedroom that wasn't Brittany's in the hall.

Perhaps Brittany shared her room with her sister?

Rachel had no time to dwell on it though, because as she blinked, a girl suddenly appeared in the room.

At first Rachel thought it was the curtains waving around in the wind, since the window was open, but no, there was definitely a girl, standing over the cat, _staring at her._

There was only one word to describe her.

_Perfect._

Rachel was one of those people, no matter how snobbish she seemed, who believed perfection did not exist. Even though she vied so hard for her _own _version of what she would deem close to perfect (a successful Broadway star) and she conducted herself as such, to the dramatic shape of her eyebrows and the precise (if not childish) choice of her clothing, Rachel had always strived for that dramatic flair that she decided was _her_ way to success, and what she decided was pretty much near perfect.

But this view of the world was very quickly forgotten as she stared for precisely 8 seconds at this...at this _girl _who stood in front of her. Their encounter was only 8 seconds, but Rachel made each second count.

The first two seconds were spent on her face. She had high cheekbones, full lips that were pursed in what may be deemed as a hesitant smile, and darker-than-her-hair eyebrows that framed her face almost perfectly.

The next two were on her eyes. Her pupils were dilated, widened in surprise at the sight of Rachel, were a caramel-coloured brown, and a warm green around the rims.

Rachel had never seen eyes quite as beautiful.

Then the next few seconds were spent on her hair, blonde, but dark at the roots. It fell along her shoulders in curls so perfect that if Rachel wasn't in such shock and wasn't too busy trying to take all of her in at once, she'd ask where she'd had her hair done.

And the last, on her lithe body, thin and almost pixie-like, with her calves curving ever so slightly to reach the hem of her dress, a cloak-like creation that covered most of the blondes body.

Too focused on her breathtaking and unreal appearance, Rachel forgot all of her senses, and when she released the breath she had been holding, reality quickly hit her.

Who was she and why was she standing there?

She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. A flittering smile crossed the girls face. A smile that was amused more than friendly.

_Who is she?_

_What is she doing here?_

She was blonde, perhaps she was Brittany's sister. But Rachel had seen the photo of Brittany's younger sister, and despite her being the wrong age, there were nary any similarities between the two, other than their light hair, which were different shades of blonde anyway.

So then the large question remained, who was she?

The haunting word 'ghost' popped into Rachel's mind before she could stop it.

But in those few seconds it made sense. She had appeared out of nowhere.

There was no way she could be real. Nobody that looked like _that_ could be real.

No way whatsoever.

And almost as if Rachel's mind could influence the world, once she blinked, the girl was gone. Her eyes darted quickly to the spot that she once stood, but nobody was there. She looked towards Lord Tubbington quickly, feeling her heart begin to race and her palms grow sweaty. Cats could sense the supernatural right? Like, ghosts and stuff? Surely if a..if a _ghost _had appeared, he would have reacted, right?

_She had just seen a ghost._

Okay, so maybe Rachel's imagination tended to run a little wild at the mere chance of a strange experience.

Or maybe it wasn't.

Lord Tubbington, however, seemed unaffected. He was still sleeping the way he had been when she'd walked in.

But then Rachel realised as she peered closer. The systematic rise and fall of his chest was no longer occurring. He wasn't sleeping. He wasn't even breathing.

Not anymore.

"That's not my roo-" said Brittany's voice behind her, but it was too late.

Rachel opened her mouth and gave a scream so loud, that if she were on Broadway, there wouldn't be any part of the audience that couldn't hear her.

/

"I saw a ghost," Rachel repeated for about the nineteenth time (Leroy had been counting) that night. As she spoke, they could hear Brittany murmuring stuff under her breath, including, but not limited too;

"They knew I was happy here. Its just like them to take away my happiness. They always do."

"I cant believe they took away Lord Tubbington. I need to get him back from them."

"When she says 'they' is she referring to God?" Leroy whispered in Rachel's ear. Rachel blinked. She had become so tuned to Brittany's muttering that she had forgotten that there was a body attached to the voice. She clambered over to her and rested her hand gently on Brittany's knee, mildly surprised that the cheerleader didn't pull away.

"It'll be okay," Rachel sympathised. She'd never lost a pet, but she supposed that her grieving of her childhood (complete with a rendition of "I'm a big girl now" from _Hairspray _which made her dads cry)) was somewhat similar to Brittany's grieving of her cat. And she supposed that claiming that she saw a ghost in Brittany's room wasn't particularly helping the case, so she decided that she would (temporarily) drop it now.

"You can stay here the night," Hiram said kindly. He could understand Brittany's grief at losing her cat. When he was fourteen, his family's cat had passed away, and sure, even though the thing scratched him countless times including in places that he wasn't allowed to mention in public, it had still been a very sad occasion. When Brittany turned to give him a confused look, he added, "Rachel told us your parents were out of town."

"Oh," Brittany said, seemingly snapping out of her mindless (or maybe not so mindless) muttering. "Thank you." She looked surprised, as if someone had never done that for her before. But she was popular, right? Surely even from whatever school she had transferred from, she'd been treated as such there too?

"Do you want to come up to my room?" Rachel asked as her fathers disappeared into the kitchen, murmuring not so quietly about how weird the day had been.

Brittany looked skeptical, but at least, Rachel thought, her weird rambling had ceased.

"Are you going to make me uhhh, uhhh, ahhh?" Brittany asked, sounding more like she was moaning than anything. Hiram, who had sharp ears, heard, and he immediately peered back into the living room, shooting Rachel a look that was half-questioning, and half-I-am-going-to-kill-you-if-that-means-what-I-think-it-means. Rachel looked alarmed as she hastily said. "Not like that, daddy. She was talking about practising harmonising. Gross. I mean Brittany is a beautiful individual, but I myself live the heterosexual lifestyle." Even though she'd never had a boyfriend and had never really been attracted to anyone..boy or girl..

Actually, come to think of it.

She tried to stop the vision from coming, but there is no point trying to stop a thought.  
The perfect blonde quickly filled her mind and she shook her head at no-one in particular. _Perhaps it was a figment of my imagination,_ she mused, trying to think of a logical explanation for it all. Perhaps her mind was just so starved for some kind of attention that she had never given it before, the supernatural kind, that it had...made up a perfect ghost?

But then how would she explain Brittany's cat? She hummed to herself. The cat was severely obese..perhaps it was just unfortunate timing?

Hiram cleared his throat, breaking Rachel's train of convincing herself that she was at least maybe slightly hallucinative.

"Okay, but Brittany's still too sleep on the spare mattress."

"Okay," Rachel agreed easily. Brittany still looked slightly lost but she nevertheless followed Rachel up to her room, trailing behind her like a little duckling. Once she entered the familiar territory, however, Rachel all but slammed the door behind her and cornered the taller girl.

"Who is she? The ghost? I need to know," Rachel began in a voice that concerned the usually mellow Brittany. She briefly remembered Mercedes saying that Rachel belonged in a crazy house and she nodded in agreement at the memory. Right now, Rachel looked hysterical at best.

"Um, Rachel, I can confirm one hundred percent that ghosts don't exist. At least, not on this planet. But don't ask me about ghosts on other planets, cause I don't really know all that much about them either."

"But I saw her!" Rachel threw her arms up a little too dramatically.

"You're probably making things up for attention," Brittany shrugged as she got out of Rachel's corner and started to pull on her favourite pyjamas. Light blue ones with small printed smiling unicorns on them. She smiled back at them until she remembered who had given them to her. She looked away, suddenly sad.

"I'm not," Rachel whined, not noticing Brittany's change of mood. "She was blonde and..and she had these gorgeous coloured eyes and.." she trailed off, suddenly aware of what she said. Brittany stiffened and then snorted in response. "Ghosts don't exist, Rachel."

"But _seeing is believing_," Rachel insisted.

Brittany sighed. "Maybe you saw her, I dunno, whatever. Maybe you're just hallu..halloo..you know, either way, ghosts don't exist."

She had said the last part a few times now, but the way she spoke this time sounded so authoritative that Rachel didn't even bother to question her again. She wanted to ask Brittany why she was so sure that ghosts didn't exist, but she decided that she was too spooked to push this venture further.

So instead, being the 'kind of' friend that she was to Brittany, only associating with her outside of school and at Glee club, she rested her hand on the taller girls shoulder and said quietly and with as much sincerity as she could muster, "I'm really sorry about your cat. I know how much you loved him," she paused, remembering the time (last week) Brittany had brought him to school so that the Glee club could sing to him.

"But at least he's in a better place now."

Brittany turned her head and smiled at Rachel, who felt relieved. Brittany was usually nice, but she still scared Rachel. She was still head cheerleader after all.

"Thanks, Rach, but you just wasted your words. I'm going to get him back."

And with that, she lay on Rachel's bed and curled up like a cat herself. Rachel looked at her, confused and mildly worried that even at her age, Brittany didn't understand death.

But she'd soon find out that it was she who knew less.

She sighed, dragging out the spare mattress from the spare room. It was still pretty much brand new. Rachel didn't really have all that many friends, and it had never bothered her, after all, her career couldn't be dragged down by associating with anyone talentless. But still, as she glanced at Brittany's now sleeping form, she couldn't help feeling a little bit lonely.

She settled down on her bed, wondering who Brittany considered her best friend. Perhaps someone from her old school. She sometimes vaguely mentioned a girl in passing but Rachel assumed something had happened between them that had upset the blonde, so she'd never really asked any questions.

And soon she found that her mind drifted towards thoughts of today. Of Brittany's house, of her room..of..

As thoughts of the blonde flooded her mind once more, she found herself growing more scared, and more..intrigued as each second passed. How had she disappeared so quickly? The window was open..perhaps she'd climbed out? But Brittany's apartment was on the fifth floor..

No matter how many times she thought it over, she just couldn't make sense of it.

But she decided not to dwell too long on her supernatural encounter..if thats what it was, and instead, she allowed her mind to drift into a safer place; the world of songs.

She definitely knew a way to make Brittany feel better.

Through music, of course!

/

Rachel had thought that getting to school would be the hardest part, but it wasn't.

It really wasn't.

Her day had started off with Brittany refusing to put her Cheerios shirt on the right way, saying that it was on "the right way already" when Rachel tried explaining that it was back-to-front, but no amount of pressuring Brittany would enable her to turn her shirt around, so Rachel eventually just gave up.

And then she'd refused to put on her left sock. Rachel had gotten so frustrated that she said she was just going to get in the car and wait for Brittany there, but as it hit 8:16 when Rachel _always _left for school at exactly 8:15, she'd stormed back in the house only to find Brittany facedown on _her_ bed whining about Lord Tubbington (to which Rachel eventually sympathised with) and an assumably collective group of people who Brittany referred to as 'they' (who Rachel had not the slightest idea about.)

Eventually at a quarter to nine, the two of them made it to McKinley in one piece, albeit a missing sock and a back-to-front shirt.

The academic day had flown by and Rachel thought that it could only get better with Glee club practise about to start. After all, she had a special performance ready to go.

/

_"You've got a friend in me, yeah, you have a friend in me." _Rachel sang, one hand clutching her chest and the other pointing at Brittany, who had an uncomfortable look one her face which signified she either really wanted to go to the toilet, or that she wanted to be someone else right now.

Probably the second.

Rachel opened her mouth, ready to sing the second verse, when suddenly the choir room door swung open. Coach Washington, coach of the Cheerios, stood in the doorway. Her unblinking gaze scanned the choir room until it landed on one particular blonde.

"You, Brittany! My office, now!" She spoke in a tone that sounded more like it belonged in the army than in the halls of McKinley.

"Excu-" Rachel began, instantly irritated about her interrupted performance when the coach's gaze was quickly swung onto her. "You too, Rachel Berry, mini songstress diva. My office!"

"What, wh-?"

"I said, MY OFFICE!"

/

The walk down the hallway was eerily silent. There weren't any students hanging around by their lockers and Coach Washington hadn't said a word.

"You still haven't told me why I was pulled out of Glee club, mind you, in the midst of a song dedicated to poor Brittany here-"

"Quit your yapping, Rachel Berry. You ain't even in trouble. Relax, girl."

"I understand Brittany being pulled out but I am not even a cheerleader-" Rachel continued over the Coach's voice.

"Aw hell, of course you're not a cheerleader, have you seen the size of your nose? Nobody in the squad will be able to do a high kick without it getting in the way!"

Rachel ignored the hidden compliment. She supposed that Coach Washington had just likened her to Barbra Streisand and her talent and gave a brief nod of approval. "So what am I-"

"Unlike Brittany here, you probably know where every room in the school is," the Coach sighed, suddenly wishing that she had just pulled out Mercedes or someone instead of Rachel, who didn't appear capable of shutting up.

Rachel was about to ask why that was significant enough to interrupt her in the midst of a song, when Brittany muttered, though loud enough for them to hear, "Its not my fault someone stole my map of the school."

Coach swung around to face her, exasperation written all over her face. "That wasn't a map of the school! We _don't even have _any maps of the school. You were carrying around a_ map of Kansas_ and nobody _stole i_t from you, you gave it to Jade because she was _actually going to Kansas."_

Rachel blinked, wondering if the Coach had even taken any breaths between her sentence and if she hadn't, then those kind of lungs could be put to good use in the Glee club. She mentally stored that observation for later.

"That explains a lot," Brittany muttered, remembering the time where she had wandered around aimlessly for three hours, unsuccessfully trying to find what looked like a lake (and the ducks that were sure to live in it) and only seeing classrooms for hours on end.

Rachel sighed.

"Anyway we have two new transfer students," Coach began and Rachel sighed again because honestly, thats all Coach had needed to say in the beginning for this all to make sense. "And I've put them on the Cheerios already, because, let me tell you, they can_ move._" Rachel briefly wondered if they could _move_ the way Brittany could, or if they could sing. After all they only needed two more to qualify for Sectionals after Brittany's arrival had prompted Matt, Puck and Mike to join..

Rachel quickly snapped out of that train of thought as she remembered that they had been at this school for less than two hours and were already Cheerios, a title akin to royalty at McKinley. She sighed. They sure must be something. But still, as she trailed behind Brittany, her head high, she couldn't help but hope. After all, Brittany was in Glee club so it couldn't be too bad, right?

Her rising and falling hopes were almost immediately dashed the minute she stepped into Coach's office. The two figures faced away from her as she entered, but almost like clockwork, they simultaneously (almost to a scary extent) turned around, one arm slung around the chair as they twisted their bodies to face who would be welcoming them to the school.

One of them was her.

One of them was _her._

Her _her._

Rachel had rarely been scared of anything in her entire life, but now she was too frightened to speak. However another part of her couldn't help being glad that she _wasn't _hallucinative after all and that the girl was real.

But if she was real then..

This just complicated things more.

_Don't look at her._

As Rachel was ushered into the room, the sight of their faces flooding her sight, she tried incredibly hard to blur her own vision. She had never purposely gone cross-eyed as a kid after Leroy had told her that if she made that face in the wind, it would stay that way forever and she would never make it on Broadway. That kind of threat was enough to keep Rachel from making funny faces forever, but now, she needed too.

After trying desperately to temporarily stuff up her 20-20 vision, she looked first to the dark-haired girl, who had hair as black as midnight and cold brown eyes to match. Her skin was perfect and tan, and Rachel did not expect any less. She had a weird look on her face though, a cross between a frown and a smirk and for the life of Rachel (and after years of perfecting the look of different expressions in front of her mirror at home) she could not figure out what emotion the other girl was trying to display.

She then heard a sharp intake of breath beside her and Rachel was only too glad to swing her gaze unto Brittany, who was frowning so wide Rachel was almost tempted to tell her that her face would freeze like that if the wind was blowing the wrong way, but the look on Brittany's face shut her up.

Unlike the other girl, Rachel knew what it was.

Hurt.

Betrayal.

Did that mean Brittany knew them?

More importantly, did that mean she knew _her?_

After all, Brittany had been _so sure t_hat ghosts didn't exist, and Rachel supposed she was right. After all, the girl that she wasn't looking at still seemed as real as any. Plus, she had been in Brittany's room, after all. But why didn't Brittany just explain to her that her friend had stopped by (and somehow disappeared) rather than letting Rachel rave on and on about to anyone that would listen that she had seen a ghost? Maybe Brittany was secretly laughing at her behind her back about it. Maybe she really wasn't any different to the other Cheerios. Rachel couldn't help feeling hurt, but that feeling quickly vanished as silence covered the room.

Rachel then briefly wondered if anyone else could feel the unsettling feeling in the room. It wasn't just tension, it was..more? Rachel couldn't quite place what it was.

Maybe they _were _ghosts. Maybe they were all ghosts, including Brittany! Rachel opened her mouth to question this idea but she was cut off by a voice that she had forgotten was even there.

"Well?" Coach asked impatiently. "Are you going to introduce yourself? Hug? Kiss? Whatever it is that you children do nowadays?"

"No," Brittany said sharply and Rachel heard Coach begin to tell her off so she quickly cut her off (again) with a quick. "I'm Rachel Berry, how do you do?"

The tanned girls face changed from the weird smirk-frown hybrid to just a simple smirk. "I'm more interested to hear blondie's name over here."

At first Rachel thought that she meant the girl she was sitting next too, but by the smirk that they quickly shared, Rachel knew instantly that they already knew each other, and suddenly, she felt like a mouse cornered by two cats.

Or maybe three. She glanced at Brittany. What was going on?

_Keep looking at Brittany, not at her._

She could feel the -other- blondes gaze burning through her pores, her own smirk, different to the dark-haired girls, fell on her and Rachel felt goosebumps creep across her skin.

_Don't look her way._

_Don't look at her._

"Shut up, Santana. Don't do this, not now," Brittany sounded cross, and somewhat upset. Rachel glanced between the two girls. So the other girls name was Santana. They definitely knew each other. How? They must've all gone to the same school. Rachel's imagination quickly went wild and she imagined a scenario where they'd been fighting over head cheerleader and so Brittany had moved here to settle the war. But by the look the two girls were sharing, Rachel knew the reason probably wasn't so superficial.

_Shes staring at you but dont let that get to you._

"Mind your own business," the Santana girl suddenly hissed, realising that Rachel kept glancing between her and Brittany in confusion. Rachel swallowed and tried to mutter out an apology but her throat was all clammed up _and she was trying_ so hard not to look at a certain blonde and-

"Well this is all extremely weird and stuff. Y'all weird, and y'all need some lessons in how to introduce each other, really," Coach interjected from behind them. Rachel flinched, forgetting that Coach was even there again.

"I'm so rude, forgive me," sarcasm oozed from the Santana girls tongue. "I'm Santana Lo_pez._"

It was silent after that for a few heartbeats and then _she_ spoke and Rachel knew it was all over then.

"And I'm Quinn. Quinn Fabray." The second she'd opened her mouth, Rachel finally looked her way. And in that one second it took her to blink, all of Rachel's fears were confirmed.

From the blonde hair, to the hazel eyes that seemed to hold all the secrets in the world, to the every single part of perfection that made up her face...

It was definitely the girl from Brittany's bedroom.

So Rachel opened her mouth, and for the second time in the past two days, she let out a blood-curling scream.

/

AN: Please review and tell me what you think and if I should keep going! Thank you for reading!

P.S - Nobody in this fic is or will be a vampire. Just making that clear because when I proof-read this, thats kind of what it may have seemed like. (Sorry)

P.P.S - Sue will be in this story, and theres a reason as to why Coach Washington is the coach and she isn't.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: To the guest that reviewed, thank you! Its slightly more Faberry than it will be Brittana, but that being said, brittana will feature in every chapter (that ive planned) anyway. It will be mostly shown from Rachels perspective but some parts (like this flashback) will be shown from Quinns. I may do Brittany/Santanas side but not until a lot later in this fic.**

**To the other guest that reviewed, I'm sorry that you didn't like the start of my Brittany's characterisation! I'd like to know specifically what part you didn't like though? There are a few lines where she does seem borderline silly (the details of glee, the lift part etc), but I tried to do that for humour and not because I think she's 'mentally challenged' because she is one of my favourite characters! Other times where she may be convinced of something 'stupid', that will all have a reason behind it, after all, Rachel's the one in the 'dark' in this fic and not Brittany. Thank you for your input too, I really appreciate it!**

**For all those who reviewed I've already thanked you personally, and for those who have favourited and followed, thank you so much!**

Also, just for reference, this is set at the very start of season 1.

* * *

**_(One week earlier)_**

It was a large house, modest at worse, with deep red-coloured bricks and a white picket fence. There was nothing particularly special about it, at least, not to Quinn, who'd encountered nothing short of palaces and temples. But there was something about this house, or perhaps the person who resided within it, that captivated her.

And she didn't know why.

"Not-so-Fab face, what on hells Earth are you doing?"

Quinn swung around, the vibrations that left Santana's lips disturbing her train of thought. Her eyes narrowed.

"I'm doing my job," she replied crisply, turning back to the fence.

The beautiful, tan-skinned girl walked up beside her, her thin arms were crossed against her unusually busty chest.  
"You could be doing your job anywhere in the world. Why Lima?"

Quinn shrugged, not particularly wanting to answer. She didn't have to answer to Santana, after all. She didn't have to answer to anyone.

Except maybe Sue.

"You're the one that asked me to come to this ridiculous small town." Quinn's cookie-cutter tone pierced the silent air, the same way that Santana's had earlier.

"That was three months ago. Why are you still here, Quinn?"

"Why do you want to know so bad? And why are you still here?" She supposed if she didn't want to answer Santana's question, she may as well turn it back on her. She was curious though, as to why they were both still in the same town. She knew her reasons, reasons that were most likely less than legit, and she could guess at Santana's. But for all three of them to be in the same town at once seemed..suspicious almost. Suspicious in a way that fore-told maybe something bad was about to happen. Something different.

Santana shrugged, making an annoyingly big deal out of the way she lifted up her shoulders and then dropped them again. Quinn rolled her eyes. "You know why," she said grudgingly, as if she were jealous of Quinn never having to deal with such a problem. "For Brittany, to make sure she's okay."

"She would be angry if she knew you had followed her. She came here to get away from you."

That seemed to deflate Santana. "I..I know," she admitted, her eyes casting downwards. "But I miss her. I need to know she's okay."

"She seems just fine without you." Quinn replied, twirling one hand over the other.

Santana looked up at her sharply. "Have you been to see her?"

Quinn snorted in amusement. She couldn't help feeling somewhat giddy when she pissed off Santana. She was forever always taking a jab at Quinn, so to return it, even if the subject matter was incredibly touchy and also affected Quinn, she couldn't help it.

She was _such _a bad person.

"No, I have better things to do than to keep an eye on your wild child unsuccessfully trying to live a normal life."

"Brittany's just fine at living a normal life." Santana's defensive mode suddenly switched on.

"Perhaps, if only she fit in with them."

"She does," came Santana's angry voice. "She's Head Cheerleader, Quinn. You wouldn't be able to make that even if you'd tried."

"That's despite the point. Where I came from, cheerleading wasn't even a thing. You want to know what the 'thing' was there? Staying alive, Santana," Quinn hissed.

"Oh please, like it wasn't the same for me and B?"

"Whatever. Brittany doesn't belong there. But I see why she'd try," Quinn raised one eyebrow delicately at Santana accusingly.

Santana gave an angry snort. "So if you don't care about Brittany, why are you still here? You keep avoiding the question."

"I care about B," Quinn replied, evenly. "But death calls."

Santana raised her own eyebrow at her, a look crossing over her face as if she had suddenly found a gun to shoot Quinn with, and Quinn watched on warily as Santana opened her clenched fists, her palms turned upwards, and Quinn knew she was caught.

To the naked human eye, all they would see was a young girl holding out her hands, empty, similar to that of a begger, she supposed. But to the trained eyes of Quinn, gold flecks began to swirl from each line of Santana's palms, forming a chart that flowed in the dark summer night.

"Not for another two weeks," Santana said, almost gleefully. She was slowly unwrapping the present that was Quinn's secret, and boy, was she loving every second of it.

"Perhaps something else calls, also." There was no point hiding it.

"Like what?" Santana asked, when suddenly the sound of laughter floated into her ears and she glanced sharply towards the large house they were standing in front of. A flicker of movement from the side caught Santana's gaze, and she saw two men clinking champagne glasses together. She raised a confused eyebrow at Quinn. _Quinn, really?_ But Quinn's expression remained neutral, and Santana realised that the laughter hadn't come from either man, but from a girl who had just _bounced, _literally, from the door.

Santana watched Quinn's expression change ever-so-slightly and she snorted so loud that she was honestly surprised the others hadn't heard. "Like that?" Her eyes flickered directly to the brunette midget so Quinn would know exactly what she meant.

"Just because Brittany's gone doesn't mean you should involve me in your ridiculous sapphic fantasies, Santana."

Santana grinned. She'd never made any mention of anything going on between Quinn and the hobbit over there. She'd thought it, sure, but Quinn had said it out loud.

Quinn watched Santana's grin grow wider, just as she grew more irritated. "If you don't leave me alone, I'm going to tell Brittany that you're here," she said finally, realising that Santana wasn't going to speak just to piss her off even more. She knew Santana's tactic of letting one sit in silence at their own misery. That seemed to work, however, because Santana's lips soon settled in a thin line.

"She won't talk to you. She'll leave before you can open your mouth."

"There are other was of communicating."

"Like what, Fabray?"

"I'm what they call death, S, what do you think?"

/

_**(Current time.)**_

Rachel was intrigued.

Actually, she was more than intrigued, but she found that the more she became captivated by the wonder that went by the name of Quinn Fabray, the less her brain was able to function, and the less words she was able to use.

So for now, she was just merely 'intrigued.'

It was the day after the 'incident' in Coach Washington's office. An incident that ended with Rachel flying from the room after her scream, only to later turn around in the car park to see Quinn leaning against a bench. Her eyes were narrowed, staring at Rachel. It was as if she were sending an unspoken warning.

A warning that Rachel had no intention of heeding.

The morning had started off as normal, minus the traffic that Rachel had been infuriatingly stuck in for five minutes, and Rachel was completely prepared to face Quinn Fabray. She was going to psyche out the other girl so much that she would have no choice but to tell Rachel what or who she really is.

What Rachel hadn't thought of, however, was the fact that Quinn's locker may have been placed right next to hers. She was surrounded by a bunch of drooling jocks, and admiring females, but they didn't cover up her tiny pleated red skirt and tight Cheerios top that she wore. Rachel stared at her for awhile before moving on her merry way to her locker.

"Excuse me," she said crisply, fighting off the urge to push the two girls giggling to each other in front of her locker. She saw one of them side-glance her, but neither of them moved.

"Excuse me," she said a little louder, making a few other people of Quinn's 'fan-club' turn around.

But still, they ignored her.

"Excuse me? I'm not sure if any of you are lacking a possession of ears, since none of you appear to have heard me, but you're blocking my locker. And perhaps you're under the impression that this _blonde cheerleader_ is the most important thing in the world right now, if not a tad cliche, but some of us value a quality education which I will not receive if you don't _get out of my way."_

At this, everyone turned around. Even _Quinn Fabray_.

"Hello, Quinn," Rachel said, unwilling to let her insides turn to jelly at the sight of Quinn's perfect features.

"Do you know her?" some idiotic looking red-haired boy in a Varsity jacket asked Quinn, who shook her perfect head. In response, he moved forward slightly, menacing Rachel. For some reason, this pissed her off. Yeah, Quinn actually did kind of know Rachel. For starters, she had scared the living shit out of her, and if her appearing randomly in front of her in a place where she had no reason to be wasn't enough, then surely meeting her again, formally, in the Coach's office was enough of an introduction?

"I know all about you," Rachel responded, without missing a beat. She wasn't going to let Quinn and her new posse push her around. There was some weird stuff going on here, and even though she had homework, and Glee club, and her part-time job, she still planned to get to the bottom of it.

"What?" Quinn said, taking her own step forward towards Rachel. Of course saying that would get Quinn to notice her. Rachel swallowed. She didn't want a direct confrontation with Quinn. At least, not in front of all of these people, who were now only watching because they wanted to see Rachel _owned._

"I know," Rachel repeated, silently cursing whichever father she had inherited her stubbornness from. She watched as Quinn's face contorted slightly, and a feeling of self-importance and pride swelled up inside Rachel's gut, gnawing away at the nervousness that currently resided there. Sure it was negative attention, but Quinn was paying attention to her and only her.

"Know what? That your hands are freakishly manly? That I could hang my wet jacket on your nose to dry?"

Quinn didn't stop there. She kept going. The blonde apparently having no restraints about bullying a girl she barely knew, one that she had only ever seen, but not directly spoken too. Rachel was used to bullying, but it still surprised her, and maybe it hurt a little bit, since it was coming from a girl that she had..taken a mild interest in. Completely platonic of course, but still. It was almost a condition that came along with being in Glee club. She supposed Brittany may be an exception, even so, she knew what they said about her grades when she was in class. Maybe that was why they were still two students short even though there was clearly more than a thousand students at this dreaded school.

But as the rhetorical and harsh questions left the blondes mouth, Rachel suddenly noted that confronting the blonde like that was probably not high up there on her list of good ideas. She could feel her mouth grow dry, her nose start to moisten, small pricks fill up her eyes. Everyone was staring at her, nobody was stopping it. She dared to look up at Quinn, who had her spine straightened and her eyebrows raised, as if she were challenging Rachel.

But there was something else on her face. She was scared. She was terrified. Rachel didn't even think it was because of her accusation. She knew bullies had their weak points, and that Quinn could make or break her reputation in the first few days of her enrolment, but there was something else that Rachel couldn't quite put her finger on. Something strange, unnatural.

But still, there was no way that Rachel was going to challenge her now. No way. This was a bullying quite like no other, and Rachel had enough on her plate. She didn't need to add Quinn and her new several hundred followers to her problems.

"Are you going to cry now?" Quinn was sneering, and Rachel couldn't help but admit to herself that she was even pretty while her face was contorted in a hateful look. She couldn't fathom for the life of her what she'd done to exhibit this oncoming abuse, and though her bones felt like jelly she opened her mouth to say so, when-

"I know what you are."

Wait, did she _seriously just say that again? _Whatever happened to staying silent and moving on to class?

"You know nothing about me."

And then when the unmistakably cold burn that only a slushy to the face could leave, Rachel vowed to never ever try to talk to the other girl again. Weird ghostly suspicions or not.

No matter how intrigued she was.

/

"I'm sorry about Quinn," Brittany said sadly as she helped to dry Rachel's face with what she assumed to be Brittany's napkins leftover from breakfast, since they smelt grossly of bacon. "But your hair looks pretty with green in it. And so does your face. You look kind of like a witch."

Brittany beamed at her as if she had just paid her the biggest compliment, and Rachel stared at her skeptically.

"Thanks, I guess," she said with a sigh of resignation. "So did Quinn and Santana go to your old school?"

Brittany visibly flinched at Santana's name and Rachel wondered what that was about.

"Nah," Brittany shrugged. "We know each other from..somewhere else."

"I see," Rachel said, sensing that Brittany didn't particular like the newcomers.

"I'm sorry Quinn made them slushy you," Brittany quickly changed the subject, and for once, she actually looked remorseful. "I tried to not let any of the Glee club get slushied, even if you guys stopped me from singing my song about unicorns in front of the school assembly." Rachel held back the urge to tell Brittany that that was for her own good. "But I guess now that Quinn's head cheerleader I don't have much of a say anymore."

It took awhile for what Brittany had said to sink in. After all, Rachel's mind was still buzzing after the whole Quinn Fabray encounter right before, but when she finally realised, she spat out some saliva as she exclaimed, "What?"

"Ew," Brittany wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"Why is Quinn head cheerleader?"

"I don't know," Brittany shrugged. Rachel stared at her. "Okay, fine, I do. She wanted it so I gave it to her."

"Why would you do that?" Rachel gasped. "I thought you didn't like her!"

Brittany's eyes widened in some resemblance of surprise. "I never said that. I love her." Rachel felt something in her belly stir at Brittany's sudden declaration of love for the other girl. "And I love Santana too. I'm just not...happy with them at the moment."

"Why?"

"Its complicated."

"I'll have you know that complicated is the very definition of my existence. I have two homosexual fathers who went through a very _trying_ process to receive a daughter such as mys-"

"Okay," Brittany said hastily, cutting her off. "I guess we were friends and then I wanted to start a fresh new life and they said I could but I don't think they wanted me to go but I left anyway and I wouldn't talk to them so they took Lord Tubbington and now they're here at McKinley, even though they promised they'd let me do this on my own!" Tears pricked at Brittany's eyes. Rachel felt bad for the other girl and held out a sympathetic hand which Brittany shrugged off.

"You wouldn't get it," Brittany sighed, turning around and walking out of the girls bathroom with a slam of the door.

Rachel stared after her, wondering what that was all about, when it suddenly occurred to her that the 'they' Brittany had been muttering about..'they'..surely she didn't mean Quinn and Santana? Sure, Rachel was borderline convinced now that Quinn was still some kind of beautiful other-wordly ghost, and Santana was so bitchy that she was sure that she was Satan's own offspring, but surely Brittany didn't believe that they 'took' her cat. She was just confused and upset, right?

Right?

/

Rachel mulled it over in English class. Santana was sitting in front of her, and Rachel had actually flicked a pencil at her, just to see if it would go through her or not.

Obviously this hadn't been a good idea since Santana had thrown it back at her with a force that was about a hundred timers more harder, but at least it proved to Rachel that Santana was solid. Therefore, by some extension, Quinn must be too.

So that ruled out ghosts.

But she thought back to that day. Quinn hadn't been standing there when Rachel had first looked in. She was sure of it. She was beyond positive. But then, when she'd blinked, there Quinn had been. She'd appeared out of thin air. There was literally no explanation for that.

Rachel sighed. Maybe she was just crazy. Maybe she just needed some more sleep. Who knew?

/

Glee club was Rachel's safety spot. It was a place where she could be who she wanted to be, it was a place that filled her with motivation to pursue her dreams, even if she did have to relentlessly fight Kurt for the lead in almost every song. She was able to sing until her lungs were out of air, and her body was able to move to the sound of its own beat, in this choir room.

So you could imagine how upset she was when she suddenly noticed Quinn at the door. Quinn glanced at her for only half a second before she strutted in, her hands on her hips. Mr. Schuester was busy writing the word, 'Surprises' on the whiteboard, and didn't notice Quinn, or the two girls who followed her inside.

Rachel blinked. It was Santana and Brittany that were closely tailing Quinn. The latter of which, Rachel had noticed, had sat with Santana and Quinn at the cafeteria earlier that day. Rachel did not, however, that she hadn't looked happy about it, though.

"What are you two doing here?" Rachel couldn't help snapping as the three of them sat on some empty seats. Her arm still stung from where Santana had thrown her pencil back at her, and she still remembered Quinn's quips from earlier that morning. It would have been easy to avoid Quinn in a school as big as this, but somehow the she-devil herself had found herself in Rachel's sacred space.

And Rachel was definitely not going to let go of that fact easily.

Santana glared at her for awhile, as if she was debating on whether on saying something back, but she eventually just resumed looking around the choir room as if she regretted being alive.

Brittany opened her mouth to reply, but Santana nudged her back into silence. Mr. Schuester turned around at the sound of Rachel's voice, and his eyes almost popped out of their sockets when he noticed the two newcomers.

"We heard you were short two members so Santana and I are joining." Quinn spoke to Mr. Schue in a sickly-sweet voice, even though it was Rachel who had asked the question.

"That's great!" Mr. Schuester said, enthused. "Now we don't have to worry about recruiting the two new members, isn't that great, guys?"

A couple of murmurs went around the room as everybody inspected the new arrivals. Kurt sat in the corner, silently judging them. Puck was practically drooling over them, and Santana had actually winked at him, which had caused Brittany's face to cloud over, Rachel noted. Perhaps Brittany liked Puck? That seemed unlikely. Perhaps they had fought over a boy in the past though? Rachel mulled over it for awhile, but she felt the slightest bit annoyed when she caught both Finn and Puck checking out Quinn, and not at all subtlety.

She wondered why she felt that way, but then decided that it was because this whole mystery surrounding Quinn was _hers. _What if Finn or someone else found out what was up with her before Rachel did? That would kill Rachel, and Rachel had to admit that she probably wasn't going to stay away from Quinn.

After all, she had been bullied before. If she got to make a great discovery, or even better, be friends with someone other-worldly like Quinn, then all this would be worth it in the end, right?

"Anyway, the theme for this week is 'Surprises!' Who likes surprises?"

"I like them in the form of girls," came Puck's voice, as he eyed the two new cheerleaders again. Rachel swore she saw Quinn roll her eyes, but she wasn't sure.

"Shut up, Noah," Rachel sighed, seeing that nobody else, except maybe Finn and Mike, slightly, were amused. It was then that Rachel swore again that she almost saw Quinn's lips flicker upwards into a smile, but once again, she still wasn't sure.

"Why do you keep staring at her?" Kurt, at least, had the decency to whisper it.

"I'm not," Rachel immediately said. "I'm sizing her up to see if she's going to be a threat to my solos."

"They're not all your solos," Kurt muttered. "But she keeps looking at you too. What's up with that?"

Rachel felt her heartbeat speed up. What if Quinn was actually some kind of demonic spirit and she was here to silence Rachel once and for all? What if she was a _demon _who wanted to live a normal life for some reason and Rachel telling everyone she was a ghost would expose her? What if she had just joined Glee club to eventually be alone with Rachel so she could..

"Rachel?"

"Yes, Mr. Schue?" Rachel said, quickly snapping out of her thoughts, though she could feel small beads of sweat form on her forehead as she saw Quinn glance at her from the corner of her eyes.

"You had a solo planned, didn't you?"

"Uh." Rachel didn't want to sing in front of Quinn. At least, not now. What if Quinn was like Ursula in _The Little Mermaid_ and she stole Rachel's voice or something?

"I have a sore throat," Rachel said, and gave a fake cough. Mr. Schuester gave her a doubtful look but he let it pass. "I want to sing," Mercedes interrupted, and before anyone could stop her, she was in the middle of the choir room, belting out several high notes. Rachel was almost impressed, but Kurt was once again pressing her for conversation.

"Do you guys know each other or something? There's some seriously unresolved tension going on here."

Rachel decided to spare him all the gory details in case Quinn overhead. "She slushied me this morning. That's all."

Kurt gaped. "Why?"

"I'm not entirely sure. Perhaps someone let her know that Glee club is at the bottom of the food chain of McKinley?" She decided not to tell Kurt about the whole ghost thing. She knew he wanted to go to sectionals as badly as everyone else, and as suspicious as Quinn and Santana were, they were still their tickets to get there.  
Also, telling more people would probably end up with her in more trouble, Rachel reasoned.

"But she's in Glee club now too," Kurt pointed out.

Rachel shrugged. "Maybe she just wanted to throw around her new superiority or something."

Rachel spent the rest of Glee club analysing everything that Quinn did. Disappointingly, she didn't do anything out of the ordinary. She sat there, and watched as Mr. Schue talked about their competition, Kurt's vocal ranges, and different Journey songs. Occasionally she would glance at Santana with irritation clear on her face, and Santana would reply with a smirk, but other than that, there was nothing special about them.

"Well, that's it for today guys," Will clapped his hands. He walked over and clapped Santana on the back. "Thanks to you and Quinn, we have enough numbers for Sectionals! So thank you both."

Santana responded with a disgusted look, and muttered something in what Rachel presumed was Spanish. Mr. Schuester turned to smile at Quinn, who all but ignored him as she turned to gather up her stuff.

Eventually, everybody soon left the choir room, except for Quinn who seemed exuberantly slow at organising her belongings, and Rachel, who had completely forgotten about her vow of 'leaving things alone' this morning in exchange for this opportunity to confront the other girl when they were alone.

In the silence, Rachel sighed dramatically.

"What do you want?" Quinn snapped, though she looked a lot more harmless than she had in the morning.

"Why did you join Glee club?"

"What? Do you own it or something? Brittany told us about some stupid singing club she was in, and how it was two members short to go to some competition, so it's only natural that me and Santana help her out."

"Brittany told me she wanted a fresh start, without you or Santana. So excuse me if it seems fishy that you both want to 'help her out' when she clearly doesn't want you too."

Surprise flickered across Quinn's face. "She told you that?"

Rachel recalled the entire conversation she had had with Brittany in the bathroom earlier that day.  
"Yes, she did," she said definitively, crossing her arms across her chest defensively.

"Whatever," Quinn dismissed her. "Shouldn't you be thanking me that I took pity on your little club, anyway? Nobody else would want to join, so you should be feeling grateful."

"Excuse me if I don't want to be indebted to you because _I know _you're hiding something."

At this, Santana, who had been waiting at the door, stepped in. She shot Quinn a questioning look, and her features looked uneasy.

"I can handle this by myself," Quinn said calmly, though she shot Santana a sharp look that clearly said, _fuck off._

Santana glanced once more from Rachel to Quinn, before shooting Quinn a look of her own. Rachel couldn't decipher it, and the three of them stood in an awkward silence until Santana mimicked Rachel's dramatic sigh.

"Whatever," she eventually said, though she was secretly annoyed that she wasn't able to use any of the new insults that she had conjured up during what was supposed to be Maths class.

"I know you're hiding something," Rachel said again as she heard Santana disappear down the hall. "And I want to know what it is."

"Haven't you ever heard the term, 'curiosity kills the cat', Rachel?" Quinn asked dryly, finally gathering up her belongings and staring at Rachel square in the eye. Rachel ignored how her heart beat a little faster when Quinn said her name.

"Curiosity kills the cat, satisfaction brings it back," Rachel replied almost automatically.

Quinn raised an eyebrow, as if somewhat impressed. "You'll have to get your satisfaction somewhere else," Quinn laughed at her own joke. A small pink blush covered Rachel's cheeks, one that Quinn did not miss.

"So what do you think I'm hiding then, Berry?" Quinn asked, her arms crossed against her chest. Rachel wondered why she had been so defensive this morning. Perhaps it was because they were surrounded by people? She looked much more like a regular teenage girl now. A _bitchy, head cheerleader, perfect _teenage girl. Rachel wondered briefly if maybe seeing Quinn in Brittany's house really had been a figment of her imagination. But then she remembered Brittany's words and the realisation that she couldn't possibly have conjured up someone in her head that she had never seen before, so she continued.

"You were in Brittany's apartment, and then you disappeared."

"And?" Boredom quickly crossed Quinn's face. It almost made Rachel unwilling to go on. It was the same look adults got when little kids began to make up stories to their face that they obviously knew weren't true. It made Rachel feel more indignant.

"You were there, and then you vanished. And now you're here. You aren't..you aren't normal. Are you stalking me or something? Attending McKinley? Joining Glee club? And also, _what's your problem_? You _bully _me relentlessly this morning, yet you seem halfway decent now that we're alone."

"Do you know how ridiculous you sound?" Quinn raised an eyebrow. "_Then you just disappeared," _she mocked.

"It doesn't matter how ridiculous it sounds," Rachel said quietly, daring to look Quinn in the eyes. "It's the truth."

A slight quiver in Quinn's jaw alerted Rachel that she had hit a nerve, and she expected to be scared at this small admission in the weird supernatural stuff surrounding Quinn that was the only thing Rachel could think about ever since it had happened, but instead her curiosity grew.

She wanted to know everything.

"So what are-"

"Maybe everyone isn't wrong when they say that you're an attention hogging drama queen," Quinn hissed. Rachel blinked in surprise. "That's right. I've heard all about you, Rachel Berry. You keep making up this crap about me disappearing into thin air. You know how crazy that is, Rachel? Do you hear yourself when you speak?"

Staring at Quinn, Rachel contemplated dropping it. She contemplated leaving everything as it was, apologising, and promising never to bring it up again.  
But she knew if she did, it would haunt her for the rest of her life.

Plus, getting to know Quinn's deep and dark secrets seemed like a pretty good deal, in turn, if Rachel could admit that to herself.

/

"Can I please have a Hawaiian pizza with extra pineapple?"

Rachel stared at the pre-pubescent boy in front of her. "We're a coffee shop," she told him, irritation laced her tone. "We don't sell pizza."

"Well you should," the boy muttered before he turned around and walked away.

"People sure are weird, huh?" Alycia, the other girl that Rachel worked with, smiled sympathetically as she turned back to the other register. Rachel shrugged, grabbing some cleaning spray and a rug from under the counter, when the voice that next answered Alycia's, "What can I get you?" made her freeze.

"Whatever you recommend." It was a sickly sweet voice and Alycia gave her a once-over before she looked at Rachel as if to say, _Who is this girl?_

Rachel instantly sprung up, making eye contact with one Quinn Fabray, who merely raised an eyebrow at her, acknowledging her existence, before she found an apparent fascination with her nails. She was alone, no Santana, and no Brittany, and she wore nothing but a middle-length cream coat over her Cheerios uniform. Alycia shuffled off to make her something, and soon it was only Rachel and Quinn at the front of the shop.

"Having fun, Berry?" Quinn asked, smirking at her. Rachel narrowed her eyes at her, unsure as to whether Quinn was asking a genuine question that somehow amused her, or if she was making fun at Rachel for working at all.

"Yes," Rachel replied curtly. Alycia came back out the front, and Rachel barely heard her apologising to Quinn about the coffee maker jamming as she walked away to the back room, where she planned to stay until she was sure that Quinn had left the vicinity of the shop. Questioning Quinn, and being mocked by her, two things that seemed to go hand in hand, was one thing to do at school. But it wasn't something she wanted in her workplace. Her manager was an ass and Rachel needed this job to help pay for her move to New York after graduation. Quinn could complain to her manager if she harassed her in the workplace, so Rachel decided to let it go for now.

Except she couldn't, because as she entered the back room, she heard someone behind her. Thinking it was Alycia, she ignored the footsteps that were directly behind her until she reached the other side of the room. When the footsteps stopped when she did, she turned around in surprise, and almost fell to the floor in shock when she found herself looking into the eyes of one Quinn Fabray.

"Why are you here?" Rachel managed to say without a break in her voice. She used the counter to straighten herself up, even daring to walk one step towards the other girl, who raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow in a mocking curiosity. "I ordered my coffee, didn't I?"

She spoke with a rasp on the edge of her tongue and Rachel felt as if she were the riding passenger on the back of a motorcycle. Dangerous, but loving the thrill. The way Quinn was staring at her would have made Rachel feel uncomfortable if it didn't already make her feel..something else. She decided to take a step back, away from the other girl, hoping that the extra space would clear her head.

But it didn't.

"Customers aren't permitted in the back room. Only staff have access to.." she trailed off as Quinn began to walk dangerously close to her. "The.." Rachel tried again but Quinn had pressed herself up against her, forcing Rachel's back into one of the cupboard handles. "I.." Rachel tried, but her throat had gone dry and she couldn't speak. One part of her mind was willing her to run away. _Danger_, was what it was saying.

But the other half of her mind was running around like a hamster on a wheel, spinning and spinning but ultimately ending up nowhere different. _Quinn Fabray_ is pressed up against you, one part of her screamed. And though irrational, it was the only part of her mind that Rachel listened too.

"I'm not just any customer, am I, Rachel?" Quinn rasped in her ear. Rachel swallowed, only aware of Quinn's chest rigidly pushed up against hers, the front of Quinn's thighs edging their way into Rachel's own.

"I have something that you want, don't I?"

"I am not sure I understand what you mean," Rachel managed to choke out, and she felt a small sense of pride for being able to speak at all. _What was going on?_

"Do you want me to show you?" Quinn's voice felt like silk against Rachel's ear. She only felt somewhat aware of Quinn wrapping her slender fingers around Rachel's wrist, almost forcing her upper body onto the top of the cupboard.

Rachel felt so scared that she had become numb. Not once did she ever imagine something like this to happen. _Heck_, she didn't even _know_ what was happening right now. All she knew was that Quinn's left hand was gliding Rachel's own arm behind her, and that her right was about to do the same. She could feel her own heartbeat pulsating in her ears and she couldn't quite decide whether she should let whatever was happening play out, or whether she should try and find the rational part of her mind and follow it.

Luckily for Rachel, her inner instincts of right and wrong quickly resurfaced and she pushed Quinn back with her upper body. The other girl took a cautious step back, gracefully not even stumbling, and looked at Rachel, outraged. And Rachel knew that whatever small sense of danger that she had imagined before, was real, and it was right in front of her, and it was _mad_.

"You're a ghost," Rachel blurted out as she stared at Quinn. _Really_ stared at her. "Or something! You were in Brittany's house that night and you killed her cat and you disappeared! That's what you're hiding!"

To Rachel's surprise, Quinn let her body relax and she snorted at Rachel's accusation, which only fuelled Rachel's racing heartbeat.

"Ghosts don't exist," Quinn said in a way so absolute that Rachel could only remember one other person talking so certainly. Brittany. And she had said the exact same thing.

"How can you be so sure?" Rachel seethed, now just ultimately pissed off. She had pushed herself away from the cupboard and advanced towards Quinn, who didn't even bother taking a step back. The two girls stood a metre away from each other, wondering who would back down first.

"Have you ever seen one?"

"Is that meant to be a rhetorical question? I literally just accused you of being one. If you are, then yes, I have seen one. If you are not, then no, I have not."

"You're a right angled pain in my ass," Quinn hissed, annoyed by her answer, which for some reason pleased Rachel.

"Good," Rachel said defiantly. She wasn't going to let some girl push her around. She was going to get answers. "So who are you and why did you take Brittany's cat?"

"I didn't," Quinn said coolly. "You have no idea what you're talking about." With that, she swung around on her heels, marching towards the door which she technically shouldn't have been allowed to enter in the first place.

But Rachel lunged forward with an unusual quickness (she quietly praised her dads for forcing her to join a track and field team in her childhood although sports wasn't her thing at all) and grabbed Quinn's wrist. Quinn swung around, irritation clear on her pretty face.

"Let me go."

She spoke with so much authority that Rachel planned on just doing that. But there was something growing inside of Rachel that forced her to hang on, even when Quinn tried to force her away. She hissed angrily at Rachel when she didn't let go of her wrist. Rachel kept her grip even though she could feel herself shaking.

"What if I don't? Are you going to take away my cat like you did with Brittany's?"

Quinn's face was unreadable. "You don't own a cat, Berry. Now let me go!"

Out of surprise and not compliance, Rachel dropped Quinn's wrist. Quinn shook her hand indifferently and sniffed, ready to continue walking out, when she noticed Rachel's face.

"Whats wrong?" she asked, though she instantly regretted it.

"How do you know I don't own a cat?"

"You've never mentioned it before."

"Yesterday in Glee club you announced that nobody cared what was going on in my mediocre life. Yet somehow you remember that not once I have mentioned my cat, which for your information, I actually do own. Her name is Fanny Brice and she is a Scottish Fold. Do you know what they look like, Quinn?"

Quinn's eyes were narrowed. "Don't lie to me, Rachel." There was a certain amount of venom in her voice that Rachel was sure that if Quinn was a snake, she (and her imaginary Scottish Fold, a cat which Rachel certainly did not own) would be most certainly dead by now.

Rachel dared to take a step closer. "Tell me how you know I don't own a cat and I will never lie to you again. That being said, however, perhaps you should stop lying to me if you detest lying so much. I saw you at Brittany's house. I saw you disappear into thin air. Everyone thinks Im crazy, but I know, Quinn. I know thats theres something really off about you and _I'm going to find out what it is even if it kills me._"

"It just might," Quinn growled in response. She slammed the door so hard that the 'Staff Only' sign promptly fell of. It wasn't like she'd listened to it anyway. Rachel sighed as she slumped down on the cold floor of the tea room.

She was so done working the graveyard shift.

/

She was in gym class when it happened. It seemed like a coincidence that Santana and Quinn had been placed on her volleyball team, albiet on the opposing side, but after last night, Rachel didn't even want to think about Quinn anymore.

"We're going to maul you." Santana said to everyone on Rachel's team from the other side of the net. Quinn stood next to her, her skin-tight black shorts were so short that Rachel was sure that Santana was breaking several uniform rules, but that didn't stop her eyes from running over them.

A girl at the back of Rachel's team hit the ball over to Santana's side. Rachel watched for a few minutes as the ball went back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

And then into her face.

/

She woke up next in the nurse's office. She turned her head sleepily to the right, expecting to see the nurse. But instead, she heard two voices arguing in the next partition over. She sat up, careful not to make any noise, because she recognised the voices.

"Why are we even waiting for her to wake up?" Rachel knew that was Santana's voice, and she wasn't surprised when Quinn spoke next. "Because Mr. Schuester asked us to get her. He said whatever's going on in this week's lesson is important."

"Oh, and don't think I've forgotten, Fabray," Santana hissed. "Just because you completely avoided me after school yesterday, what went down with you and Rachel after Glee club. How did you let Rachel see you? We have two rules to follow, and rule number one is don't let anyone _fucking_ see you. How fucking hard is that to follow?"

"Oh shut up, Santana," Quinn hissed back, and Rachel held her breath, trying hard not to be heard. "Brittany's let everyone see her, and everyone can see us now too. Reckon Sue will have our heads for that?"

"Thats because we aren't _working,_ you fucking idiot. You were _working _when she first saw you. There's a mighty big difference there. Oh, and once Brittany's realised whats good for her and comes home then we'll just _kill _their memories," Santana paused and laughed at this as if something was funny, "and we'll go back to the way it was."

"You think Brittany's going to come '_home'?_" Quinn snorted. "I don't know about you, but I don't really consider that place home. And I know you don't either," Quinn's tone grew uncharacteristically soft. "You consider Brittany to be home. Shes your safe place."

Santana grew silent.

"Whatever," she eventually scoffed out. "If you want to risk whatever life you have left just to continue on with your fascination with Rachel Berry, then so be it, but don't fuck up me and Brittany's lives in return." Rachel heard Santana stand up, and she tried desperately to sink back into the bed and pretend she was asleep, but it was too late. Santana glanced at her for a few minutes, and Rachel froze, suddenly too frightened to move.

Santana laughed, though it sounded more like a strangled bark. "This is good. Too good. This is great. Excellent, even. Look Quinn!" She swung around, and Quinn came up behind her, her face paler than normal. Santana marched right up to the bed and wrapped her long fingers tightly around the peter-pan collar of Rachel's blouse, leaving Rachel to let out a strangled cry.  
"Your little _obsession_ has just heard every single word."

Santana snorted, looking at Rachel who rightfully looked like she feared for her life, and then back at Quinn, who was looking on helplessly. Santana yanked Rachel out of her bed, forcing her to her feet, only to knock her back down to the ground in front of Quinn.

"You gonna take her? Or shall I?" Santana laughed at the unintentional dirty innuendo of her joke, but she was the only one. Rachel looked up at Quinn, her hands shaking, and Quinn seemed to be frozen in the moment.

"Take me where?" Rachel fretted. "If I'm not home by exactly four my dads will freak and they have connections to the police departments in ten different states including but not limited too..."

"Do you ever shut up?" Santana groaned. "You're honestly taking all the fun out of torturing Quinn here."

"Get up, Berry," Quinn said finally, ignoring Santana completely. She dragged Rachel to her feet and then pushed her towards the exit, which Santana swiftly blocked. She frowned at Quinn. "Oh no," she said, shaking her head. "Im not sure if you recall the conversation we just had, Quinn, since your mind appears to be _Berry_ scrambled," Santana paused to laugh at her own joke (this appeared to be becoming a thing now) while Rachel watched on in a mixture of fear and confusion and Quinn paused completely, unsure as to whether she should hit Santana then and there or to let it go. When Quinn didn't move, Santana sighed. "She heard everything we just said. We cant let her tell people. You of all people should know shes a blabbermouth. Telling people you're a ghost and all, when we all know that _ghosts don't exist._"

There it was again, the complete certainty. Like the three of them knew a secret that she didn't. A secret that they were so certain was so foggy that nobody was able to see through it..

It was then Rachel finally believed that Quinn wasn't a ghost. But it was then when Rachel believed that the three of them, the two in front of her and Brittany, weren't human either.

"What are you?" Rachel whispered.

Santana suddenly grinned as if she found this amusing, like a cat ready to attack a mouse that had finally accepted its fate. "Death," her voice like an acid, ripping through every part of Rachel's brain, tearing apart and disintegrating any beliefs the girl had ever had. "We are the manifestations of death."

/

Rachel woke up with a start, almost ready to give one of her award winning screams, as for sure she must be dead and in heaven already, when her eyes took in the familiar cream-coloured walls.

She was still in the nurses office. She was still in the bed.

"Was that a dream?" she murmured, using her hands to push her body up. She rubbed the back of her neck where she was sure the fabric must have made a cut by the way Santana yanked it so hard, but she found nothing. Her skin was as smooth and unbroken as it had been last week.

"Are you done?" A voice from her left asked and Rachel instantly backed up, tensing her leg muscles, ready to run. "You yell in your sleep and its incredibly annoying. If Mr. Schuester didn't expect me to bring you back to Glee club I would've left already. Like seriously, is he crazy or something? You get knocked out in sports class yet he still expects you to attend an after school arts activities? What's that about?"

Rachel ignored her. "You...you and Santana..manifestations of..death.."

"What?" Quinn shot her a puzzled look. "What the hell are you yammering on about, Berry?"

"I heard you.." Rachel tried, but she stopped herself. Had that really happened? Or had it all been a dream? After all, if they'd really told her something like that, and it was true, they would've killed her now, right?"

"Nothing, Quinn. I apologise for once again accusing you of falsities. I have not yet awoken fully from my dream status. I will now head to Glee club, however, as I feel very much recovered."

"I don't know why you can't just talk like a normal person," Rachel heard Quinn mutter. She smiled hesitantly in response, but she still flinched when she saw Santana standing in the doorway. She tried not to look like she wanted to bolt, but every muscle in her body was inching for her to run. She smiled politely at Santana, who shot her a disgusted look. "Try not to be late to your precious Glee club," Santana said snarkily as Rachel squeezed past her. Rachel nodded and then she started down the hall when she heard Santana and Quinn talk.

And she couldn't help it. She edged back, just a few steps, just so she could hear them.

"Thank you. For this. It means a lot." It was Quinn that spoke.

"Whatever, just be thankful she thinks that it was a dream," came Santana's snarking voice in return.

And as Rachel began _bolting _to Glee club, she realised she had no idea what she should do now.


End file.
